Conclusion
by bluemoon5
Summary: An additional chapter. Written several years ago.


"Will! Eh there, Will!" Will turned to see who was calling him. It was May

Thorne. "I's got a letter 'ere for you."

        "Oh?" asked Will, surprised. Who would be writing to him?

        "Looks important. It's from America," She handed him the envelope.

        "Ta," Will said in thanks. He looked at the envelope without opening it. It

couldn't be what he thought it was.

        "Your birthday's coming up soon, ent it?" Will nodded. "How old, then?"

        "Er..18," Will said absently, still looking at the unopened envelope. Seeing he was distracted, May said "I'll be off then." Will nodded and half-waved.

        After a minute, Will slowly opened the envelope, took out the letter and unfolded it. He took a deep breath and read:

Hussian School of Art

1118 Market St.

Philadelphia, PA, US

Dear Mr. William Oakley,

        We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hussian School of Art. The semester will begin on September 8. We look forward to seeing you then. Please find enclosed a list of supplies you will need. Thank you and congratulations.

Will stared down and the letter. A smile slowly crossed his face. He folded the letter and put it back in the envelope. He was lost in his thoughts, and when he looked up, he realized he was heading for Carrie's house. He stopped abruptly. Why was he going to Carrie's? It's not that he didn't want Carrie to know; it was just that his dad had the right to know first, didn't he? Will turned and headed for his house.

            Eight years ago, he would've gone straight home to tell Mr. Tom. There was no one else he would want to know first, except maybe Zach. Now, Will thought, Zach knew first anyway. Will entered his house and was greeted by Sammy, who came jogging to see him. Will knelt down to pet him. "Hey boy. Is Dad home?"

            In answer to his question a voice called " Will? Is that you?"

            "Yeh!" Will called and walked into front room. Mr. Tom sat in the armchair by the fire. "Hey Dad," Will said.

            "'Ello Will," Mr. Tom replied.

            "Er…d'you want some tea Dad? I'll make us some tea," Will said and began to fix the tea. Tom watched him for a minute, then went back to his paper. Will handed Tom his mug.

            "Thank you," Tom said. Will sat on the stool and sipped his tea. He wasn't sure how to bring it up. "Big birthday comin' up eh, Will," Tom said.

            "I s'pose." Will said.

            "Will you be wantin' to do somethin' special, like?" Tom asked. Will shrugged. Tom looked up. "What's wrong wi' you boy?"  Wordlessly Will pulled out the letter and held it out to Tom. Tom took it and pulled out the letter, apprehension on his face. Will watched Tom read the letter, and saw his face

light up.

            "Oh, Will!" Tom said when he finished. He stood up and gave Will a hug. Will was surprised by the strength of the hug, considering Tom had been looking so fragile lately. Tom stepped back and looked at Will. "I'm proud of you Will."

            "So you think I should go?" Will asked.

            Tom stared at him. "Of course you should go. Why wouldn't you?"

            "Well...... will you be all right? I don't want to leave you alone." Will said. 

            "Will, you can't worry about me. I won't be around forever."

            "Don't talk like that." Will said.

            "It's true. You need to do your own thing. This is a great opportunity for you. You need to take it."

            "But, the semester starts on the eighth. I'll have to leave before then. So....so I'll miss my birthday."

            "That's all right. We'll have a celebration before you leave." Tom grinned. "I'm really proud of you son."

            "Thanks. I love you Dad," Will said. "I'm going to go tell Carrie, OK?" Tom nodded. When Will was gone, Tom thought about everything that had happened over the past few years. He had always hoped his son would take after Rachel's artistic ability. And he never thought he would ever hear his son William say "I love you" to him. It was a different son, but still his son William.

            It didn't seem that long ago that he found a scared little boy standing at his front door, needing a home and love.  Now he was nearly grown, and he was going off to art school. In America too. Will had definitely grown up. They had both learned a lot. Sammy barked at his feet. Tom picked him up and put him on his lap. "It's going to be jes' us again Sammy ol' boy." Tom scratched his ears. "You're goin' to miss 'im, ent you? Yeh, I'll miss 'im too." Tom looked back at the letter. "I love you too William Oakley."


End file.
